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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172183">Pillow Talk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotetofollow/pseuds/anotetofollow'>anotetofollow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Camping, Courting Rituals, Courtship, Dalish Courtship, F/M, Flirting, I guess? sharing a tent anyway, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Discussions, Sharing a Bed, Tanith Lavellan is an HR complaint waiting to happen, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotetofollow/pseuds/anotetofollow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes, circling.” She gestured in the air with her finger. “We circle around each other. Keep getting close, but we never quite meet in the middle. I don’t understand why.”</p><p>In which she would take no for an answer, if only he would say no.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Blackwall/Female Lavellan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pillow Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long, difficult, and almost entirely fruitless journey. An Inquisition agent had sent word of bandits attacking caravans headed for the crossroads, and Tanith and her companions had set out for the Hinterlands in the hope of tracking them down. Three days of searching had yielded nothing more than a few burned-out fires and the odd abandoned campsite. They had run into trouble several times, and after their most recent scrap — a couple of Templar deserters who had felt the need to attack them on sight — the group decided that it was time to give up the search for the day.</p><p>Tanith sent Bull and Sera back to the crossroads to pick up more supplies and to inform the Inquisition scouts of their abject failure. She and Blackwall made camp in a clearing out of sight of the road, keeping their fire small in case the bandits were holed up nearby. They spoke little, both exhausted from the days of travel and irritated with their lack of progress.</p><p>When Tanith unshouldered her pack she found it torn on both sides. An arrow must have passed through it in their last fight, narrowly missing her. She unrolled her tent and found similar holes throughout the fabric.</p><p>“Wonderful,” she said, holding it up to the campfire to examine the damage. “That’s exactly what it was missing. Picture windows.”</p><p>Blackwall looked up from where he was pitching his own tent. “Ah.”</p><p>“What’s going to go wrong next, do you think?” she asked, rolling it up again. “Thunderstorm? Giant bear? Solas turns up and starts talking about the glorious days of yore?”</p><p>“I’ll take my chances with the first two.” He finished knocking the last peg into the ground and stood up, gesturing to the tent. “Here. You take it tonight.”</p><p>Tanith frowned. “What, so you just sleep out on the dirt?”</p><p>“Wouldn’t be the first time. I was living in the woods before I joined the Inquisition, if you remember.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Tanith pointed to her vallaslin, then tugged at her ears. “Same here.”</p><p>“I take your point. Still, it’s no trouble.”</p><p>“That’ll easily fit two, you know.”</p><p>“I…” Blackwall sighed, shifting his weight. “I’ll be fine out here.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again.”</p><p>“It’s not—”</p><p>“Oh, hush.” Tanith picked up what was left of her pack and pulled open the intact tent. “Thank you. Let me know if you change your mind.”</p><p>She climbed inside, pulling off her boots and tossing them in a corner. After setting her staff down she rummaged around in her pockets, looking for a coin. When she found one she took it out and wove a little glamour around it, channelling magic into the metal until it gave off a soft yellow light, then placed it on the ground beside her. She pulled the rolled map from inside her pack and spread it out in her lap. Carefully she scratched a cross in charcoal over the places that they had visited that day, adding to an already-crowded cluster of markings. The months since the Conclave had not been easy, but rarely had they been so dull, so frustrating. When Tanith left her clan she did so with ambitions to go out and change things in the world. Gaining the mark, while not exactly planned, had at first seemed like an opportunity to do some good. What she had not anticipated was the endless drudgery that would come with it.</p><p>There was a light pattering sound against the canvas. Tanith looked up reflexively, frowning. Rain after all. Maybe she had tempted fate.</p><p>She stuck her head out of the tent flap, peering into the darkness. Blackwall was lying a few feet from the now-sputtering fire, the outline of him hazy in the low light.</p><p>“Hey!” Tanith called.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s raining.”</p><p>“Well spotted.”</p><p>She pursed her lips. “Will you just come in?”</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>As he said the words there was a booming clap of thunder from overhead, followed a few seconds later by a bright flash of lightning. The rain grew heavier, pelting against the hard earth. It couldn’t have been better if she’d planned it.</p><p>“Will you just swallow your pride for thirty seconds?” Tanith called. “Don’t drown to make a point.”</p><p>For a moment Blackwall didn’t move. Then a second roll of thunder sounded, and he reluctantly got to his feet and walked over to the tent. Tanith shifted over to make room for him, rolling up the map and shoving it back inside her pack.</p><p>There was enough space for the two of them, but not by much. Even when she sat on the far side of the groundsheet Tanith’s hip still bumped against his, and for once the touch was not contrived. Half-soaked with rain as he was, Blackwall looked even more dour than usual. Tanith watched as he made an attempt to wring the damp from his hair, failed to keep herself from smiling. Horribly endearing.</p><p>“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she said. “Don’t worry. I only bite if I’m asked nicely.”</p><p>Even in the low light Tanith could see the blush rising in his cheeks. She laughed quietly to herself, leaning back on her elbows.</p><p>It had almost been a joke, at first. She liked to tease him, to watch him get flustered in her presence, and so she never thought twice about flirting outrageously whenever they saw each other in Haven. But over time she had come to find herself taking their brief conversations more seriously. She liked this man, she realised, liked his flat humour and his forthright way of speaking, liked how he sought out the quiet places among the chaos. There was something there between them, some tension Tanith couldn’t quite find the words for. Never one to be coy, she had made her intentions plain as soon as they revealed themselves to her, not seeing the point in remaining coquettish. Blackwall had never refused her advances — not exactly — but nor had he accepted them, and Tanith could not for the life of her work out why. He was a riddle she couldn’t seem to solve.</p><p>When Tanith began undoing the buttons of her coat Blackwall looked almost alarmed.</p><p>“What are you doing?” he said.</p><p>She frowned at him. “I’m taking my coat off.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because I’m going to sleep?” she said, not sure why this was such an issue.</p><p>“You don’t sleep in your armour?”</p><p>“You <em> do</em>?” Tanith nodded to the heavy plate he was wearing. “That can’t be comfortable.”</p><p>“It’s not about comfort,” he said. “What if the camp gets attacked in the night? What if those bandits show up and decide to make us their next target?”</p><p>“You worry too much.” She shrugged out of her heavy coat, rolling it up and throwing it in the corner with her pack. “I set wards. If anyone tries to get past we’ll know about it.”</p><p>“And then what? They wait patiently while you put your armour back on?”</p><p>“You know, I’ve really never thought about it in that much depth.”</p><p>She laid down again, curling ever-so-slightly against him under the guise of getting comfortable. Her hand found his arm, fingers stroking lightly across the crease of his wrist.</p><p>“Tanith.” His voice would be a warning if it weren’t so gentle.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“You're making this very hard for me.”</p><p>She turned to face him, her lips curling into a smile. “Please say that again.”</p><p>Blackwall almost laughed but he caught himself just in time, instead resuming his usual stoic expression. “Let’s just get some sleep, shall we?”</p><p>“Great idea.” She rested her head on his shoulder, threw one arm over his chest. “Night.”</p><p>For a moment she felt him respond, his arm moving around her waist before he realised what he was doing and stiffened. “<em>Tanith</em>.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You know what.”</p><p>“Oh, fine.” She shuffled away from him. “Are we going to do this every time?”</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>Tanith dropped her voice low, mimicking him. “You know what.”</p><p>“Very mature.”</p><p>“I’m serious. You know what I want.” She glanced down significantly. “I think it’s pretty obvious what you want. So why all this… circling?”</p><p>“Circling?”</p><p>“Yes, circling.” She gestured in the air with her finger. “We circle around each other. Keep getting close, but we never quite meet in the middle. I don’t understand why.”</p><p>Blackwall sighed, scratching at his beard. “It’s complicated.”</p><p>“Look, if you’ve got a sweetheart somewhere just tell me and I’ll back off.”</p><p>“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I would have told you if it was that.”</p><p>“So <em> what is it</em>?” she said. “Creators, Blackwall, I’m not some maiden blushing on a balcony. We’re both adults. And we’re friends, aren’t we?”</p><p>He looked almost hurt that she had asked. “Of course we are.”</p><p>“So why can’t you talk to me?” Tanith softened her voice a little. “I just want to understand. That’s all.”</p><p>Blackwall looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The sound of the rain beating against the canvas was almost deafening. “I wish I could explain,” he said at last. “You deserve that much. But I can’t, Tan.”</p><p>She felt her heart flutter at that. He had only called her Tan a handful of times since they had met, always when he had that serious look in his eye. “Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll drop it. <em> This time</em>.”</p><p>Tanith thought he would turn away from her then, but he didn’t. He looked down, blinking, like he was considering something. “Even if things were different,” he said. “Even if you weren’t the Herald—”</p><p>“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked.</p><p>“Everything,” he said. “Like it or not, you’re the face of the Inquisition right now. You’ve got a reputation to preserve.”</p><p>“I don’t think the people of Thedas care who I go to bed with so long as I can stop demons pouring from the sky,” she said. “Besides, that’s nothing. As soon as the Breach is closed everyone will forget all about the Herald of Andraste. I’ll be no one again.”</p><p>Blackwall frowned. “Do you really believe that?”</p><p>“I guess so,” she said. “Don’t you?”</p><p>“I doubt it’ll be that easy.”</p><p>“Such little faith in me.” Tanith sighed dramatically. “So. That’s one problem solved. What are the others?”</p><p>Blackwall looked at her, unable to hide his amusement. “I thought you were dropping it.”</p><p>“I changed my mind. What are they?”</p><p>“Well,” he said. “Even if things were different, and you weren’t the Herald…” He paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t just want a quick tumble with you, Tanith. I’d want more than that. If—”</p><p>“If things were different, yes, I know,” she said. This was the first time that he had suggested his interest in her went more than skin deep, and she found herself fighting the heat that rose in her throat. “You’ve covered that part. But you do know that one doesn't preclude the other, don’t you? The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”</p><p>He shook his head. “Maker, woman, if the Inquisition doesn’t work out there’s a career for you in politics. Is there anything you don’t have an answer for?”</p><p>“No,” she said. “That’s why it’s usually better to agree with me.”</p><p>“I’ll bear that in mind.”</p><p>Tanith rested her chin in her hand, considered him for a moment. His hair was still damp from the rain, the skin beneath his eyes darker than usual. He looked tired. He always looked tired. “What do you mean, ‘more than that’?” she asked.</p><p>“I’d think that would be obvious.”</p><p>“Not necessarily,” she shrugged. “I’m barely a season out of the clan, remember? I don’t know how humans court each other.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I do, any more.”</p><p>Tanith laughed. “Humour me,” she said. “Hypothetically, if things were different, and I wasn’t the Herald, and all the other reasons you won’t tell me didn’t matter, how would you court me?”</p><p>“Are you really asking me this?”</p><p>“Yes. For purely educational reasons, of course. You’d be helping me to assimilate into your backwards shemlen society for the good of the Inquisition.”</p><p>He chuckled low in his throat. “Well, when you put it like that.”</p><p>Tanith shifted into a more comfortable position, looking at him expectantly.</p><p>“I’m not sure if I could tell you how I’d go about it,” he said. “It’s been long enough. I’ve seen men at tourneys wear tokens while they fight, or dedicate a victory to their intended. Some of them play music, bring them flowers. Write poetry.”</p><p>Tanith laughed. “Creators, are you depriving me of poetry?”</p><p>“I don’t know about depriving. ‘Sparing’ might be more accurate.”</p><p>“And is it always the man does the courting?”</p><p>“Usually.”</p><p>“Well, that’s dull,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all the <em> rules </em> humans have. They’re so <em> arbitrary</em>.”</p><p>“Like what?” Blackwall looked almost affronted.</p><p>“Don’t say this, don’t say that, don’t touch anyone, don’t eat with your hands, don’t sit on the table, don’t talk to that person, talk to this person but only politely, don’t—”</p><p>“I suppose you have a point,” he said. “Anyway, there’s your primer on human courting. I hope it was illuminating.”</p><p>“Very,” she said. “And what about love letters?”</p><p>Blackwall was very still for a moment. They didn’t talk about the letters. It was a secret thing, not even acknowledged between one other in person. Tanith suspected that it was only this degree of separation that allowed him to keep writing them, and wondered whether she had made a mistake by bringing them up at all.</p><p>“Yes,” he said slowly. “That’s a part of it.”</p><p>She nodded. “Good to know.”</p><p>The rain showed no signs of stopping, and Tanith was relieved that they had made their camp on higher ground. If they were any further down the valley they might have risked being washed away. It was getting cold now, and she was achingly aware of the heat of Blackwall’s body alongside hers. In the clan she wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing her bed with a friend on a night like this, curling up like denned foxes for warmth. Right then she would have settled for that alone, just the simple comfort of being tangled in someone’s arms.</p><p>“What of the Dalish?” Blackwall asked suddenly.</p><p>“What of us?”</p><p>He cleared his throat, looked everywhere but her eyes. “If I were Dalish. How would I go about courting you?”</p><p>Tanith smiled lasciviously. “If you were Dalish I wouldn’t be interested.”</p><p>Blackwall looked at her as though she were the most exhausting person in the world, and perhaps she was. He repeated her words back to her. “Humour me.”</p><p>“Well,” she said. “If you were a hunter you’d go out into the woods and kill some great beast. Bring me its pelt to prove your strength and virility.”</p><p>Blackwall considered this for a moment. “It’s simple, at least.”</p><p>“Oh, not for me,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “You’re forgetting that I am the First of Clan Lavellan, guardian of our ancestors’ lore, jewel of the Elvhenan. I am a rare prize, and no simple skin will do. For <em> me </em>you’d need to kill something more impressive. Like a dragon, perhaps.”</p><p>“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking.”</p><p>“Neither can I.”</p><p>She caught Blackwall’s eye then, and for once he didn’t turn away. There were moments when Tanith worried that she might be misinterpreting his feelings, that her attentions were ill-placed, but there were others when she was entirely, perfectly sure that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. This was one such moment. He seemed almost sad, as though it hurt to look at her.</p><p>“You know there’s no point fighting this, don’t you?” she said quietly.</p><p>“I need to believe that there is.”</p><p>“Too bad.” Tanith pointed to herself. “Unstoppable force.” She moved her finger to the spot above his breastplate, pushed it into his chest. “Eminently movable object.”</p><p>“And what makes you so sure I’m that movable?”</p><p>“You’ve turned me down so many times,” she said. “But you’ve never told me to stop asking.”</p><p>Tanith ghosted her fingers over his throat, feeling his pulse rapid against her skin. He breathed out slowly as she touched him, closed his eyes. She sat up so she was looking down at him, the side of her body pressed against his, and moved her hand upwards to cup his cheek.</p><p>“Tell me to stop,” she whispered. “And I’ll stop.”</p><p>The silence stretched out between them. Tanith bent lower, painfully slowly, giving him ample time to pull away from her. He didn’t. His hand found her waist, firm and certain. She smiled, her lips close enough to his to feel the warmth of them, and leaned in closer.</p><p>There was an almighty crash from outside, loud enough to cut through the sound of the rain. The wards. Tanith sprang up, hand going instinctively to her staff.</p><p>Then, a moment later, a shout. “Boss! What the hell?”</p><p>“Ah, fenedhis lasa.” Tanith buried her head in her hands. “Bull, ar tu na'din.” She turned to Blackwall, looked at him pointedly. “To be continued.”</p><p>When Tanith climbed out of the tent Bull was standing in the burned-out remains of her ward, beating at a section of his trousers that had caught fire. Good thing it was raining after all. The glyph would have done a lot more damage otherwise.</p><p>“What are you <em> doing </em>here?” she said. “I thought you were going back to the crossroads.”</p><p>“We were,” he said. “But halfway there we spotted this fire, went to check it out. Found the bandits. They’re camped over the ridge there. Sera’s keeping watch in case they move on.”</p><p>“That’s great,” Tanith said, smiling beatifically at him. “Really fantastic. I’m delighted.”</p><p>Bull looked from her to the tent, which Blackwall was in the process of sheepishly exiting. “Shit,” he said. “Was something happening?”</p><p>“Tragically not,” she sighed. “So, I guess we go kill some bandits in the middle of a thunderstorm now?”</p><p>“Looks that way, boss. Sorry.”</p><p>“Wonderful.” Tanith turned around. Blackwall met her eye for a moment, then looked away. “Just my luck.”</p>
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